Drifting Away
by whitherthen
Summary: Buffy makes Spike an offer.


TITLE: Drifting Away  
  
AUTHOR: isisgoddess2000  
  
EMAIL: isisgoddess2000@hotmail.com  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
SPOILERS: Through Wrecked.  
  
SUMMARY: Buffy makes Spike an offer.  
  
FEEDBACK: Yes please!  
  
DISCLAIMER: Joss, Mutant Enemy, Fox, etc. own all, not me.  
  
DISTRIBUTION: Please ask first.  
  
TIPS: *These stars* denote thought.  
  
  
  
She sat, staring at her face in the mirror. He would never do it.  
  
~~  
  
Brain not connecting to the body – it had a will of its own – marching to his crypt as soon as the sun had gone down. She had kicked the door open, slamming it shut behind her and sliding the lock into place. What infuriated her the most, she still didn't know. That she had gone in the first place? That her heart quickened at the sight of him? That her body reacted when her brain said no? Or, above all, that he didn't bat an eyelash when she walked through that door?  
  
"I knew you'd be back, luv," he had said, flashing that cocky grin, "I just thought you could hold out a bit longer." Buffy had quickly closed the distance between them, yanking Spike out of his chair. The bottle he had been holding slipped to the floor, shattering, spilling its golden contents.  
  
"Hey! You're gonna replace that…" his voice trailed off, fading into the background. She stared at the remnants of the bottle, glass glistening, the puddle of liquor spreading. Mind floating away to the night things had changed, when she sat a few feet away from this spot, pouring shots, peering through a haze of drunkeness. Alcohol-addled brain had still picked up the way he had laid it on the line, read her completely, saw through the denial. *His world.* A deep flush crept over her skin as memories came flooding back, when those words had throbbed in the pit of her stomach, the night she had tried on his world.  
  
Looking at him suddenly, she knew he could feel the change in her body, temperature rising, breaths coming more rapidly, blood surging through veins… Anger bubbled in her throat, hating that she felt the way she did, that he was responsible, and that he wouldn't let her hide it.  
  
"Get over yourself." She hissed, sneering cruelly. "I came here to finish this." Before she could move, before she could breathe Spike had grabbed her right wrist, twisting it viciously. In one fluid motion he was standing behind her, forcing elbow and hand to lay parallel to her spine. He removed the stake she had concealed up her sleeve and tossed it across the room.  
  
"I know your secrets, Slayer." he whispered into her ear, "Staking me won't kill the darkness in you." She made no attempt to free herself from his grasp. Instead she reached around with her free hand and pulled her hair to the side, exposing her neck. She then tilted her head to the side a bit, baring the scars left by those who had tasted her before. Buffy could hear Spike wetting his lips, could feel his body tighten, his arousal rising. She closed her eyes and sighed softly.  
  
Suddenly he grasped her shoulders and whipped her around to face him. For a moment her lip trembled and fear crept into her heart. Afraid of what she had offered? That he knew why she had done it? That he was going to make her work for it?  
  
"What are you playing at?"  
  
For a moment Buffy's mind blanked. She hadn't meant to come here, hadn't told her feet to cross his threshold, hadn't willed her hands to slide the lock into place. Just the opposite. It was her body that betrayed her, that began to flush under his gaze and ache for his touch. It was her body that longed for him to fill the void as he had done before. Now her lips were on his, begging him to comply, to allow his body to take over as well. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close, feeling him weaken. Then her hand slid down his abdomen, groping between his legs. His resolve was shattered.  
  
He broke the kiss to shove her with such force that she stumbled backward across the room, landing hard on her rear. Viciously pulling his shirt over his head, eyes glinting coldly in the moonlight, Spike tackled her like a predator on its prey, bouncing her head into the crypt floor with a brutal kiss. Coarsely running his hands over her body, tugging at fabric until she was naked beneath him. Buffy lay back, eyes squeezed shut as his hands and mouth savagely claimed her body. Her mind was slipping, floating into that place where it was silent and cold and nothing was real. It was her body that moaned in pleasure, found a voice to urge him on, that stifled a sob as his touch ceased and cried out when his cold skin covered her. Moments passed and she opened her eyes to see him naked, body poised over hers, waiting, waiting, waiting to be granted permission.  
  
Digging both hands into his backside she forced him in, wishing to be freed from all thought and decision, embracing the delicious pain as he pounded away, the skin on her back being rubbed raw against the concrete. Her mind drifted again, allowing her body its release, feeling herself split in two, right up the center, quaking as she cried out, but maintaining enough control not to say his name. Soon he collapsed on top of her, knowing his weight would do no damage, laying still until she met his eyes.  
  
"Are you even here?" He whispered. Buffy furrowed her brow, mind snapping back to reality. She raised her hands to his chest in a half-hearted attempt to push him away. Instead he trapped her wrists in one hand and held them above her head.  
  
"What does it take to wake you up?"  
  
Closing her eyes and turning her head to the side, the slayer once again exposed her neck. Spike tightened his grip until she winced in pain. He ducked his head, scraped his flat teeth against the scars on her neck, free hand reaching down between her legs. She started drifting again, anticipating the bite, the pain, the sensuality of teeth piercing skin and filling the holes they created; life being pulled away by the mouthful. But Spike's lips were at her ear.  
  
"I'm not playing that game." Suddenly rage coursed through her body. She wrenched her hands free from Spike's grip and slammed them into his chest. He fell backwards, surprised at the force of her actions.  
  
"So that's it then? That's your game? I'll never do it. Never." At this Buffy scrambled to her feet and began getting dressed. "Well, isn't this déjà vu all over again? Run, run, as fast as you can."  
  
Anger made her shake, earring catching on the collar of her shirt as she pulled it over her head. She leveled him with an icy glare. "Why?" She asked, voice trembling. "Why won't you do it?"  
  
He stood up and walked a few paces, planting himself close enough to send fresh chills down her spine. He place a hand on the small of her back and drew her body into his. "I. Love. You." He stated slowly.  
  
"Why?"  
  
Spike smiled and shifted his gaze, running a hand through her hair. "Sunshine." He whispered. "Golden sunshine." Buffy turned on her heel and left him standing in the middle of his crypt, naked. So naked.  
  
~~  
  
And so she sat, staring at her face in the mirror, not moving for hours. Her sister had walked by numerous times, pausing in front of the closed door, only to continue down the hall. Somewhere in her brain she knew it was past Dawn's bedtime, but the thought couldn't break through the din. She couldn't quit staring. All she saw, all she ever saw, was the frightened, dirty face of the girl who clawed her way out of a coffin. Where was the sunshine? There was no light here anymore. What did he see? That liar. Not possible. No sunshine. Except, except… Buffy's eyes widened in horror. Her hair. Why didn't she see it before? It seemed to shine even in the scant moonlight. He had touched it when he said… The reason he wouldn't… why she couldn't… It was an illusion, a delusion; golden frame surrounding a black hole.  
  
Her body moved of its own accord, hand reaching into the drawer and springing into action.  
  
She had forgotten what it was to want. -Snip- To feel. -Snip- She had only one request. -Snip- She had thought he would understand. -Snip- He was the only one who could. -Snip- She watched the mirror in fascination as a dark mask washed all expression from her face. Rays of sunshine fell to the floor like raindrops. *Rain, rain, go away…* But this wasn't enough. Some part of her knew. Even this wouldn't help. He would find another excuse, another reason to deny her.  
  
Scissors dropped to the floor with a clank. She willed the tears to come, but nothing. Her face remained a mask. A mask hiding a hollow husk, empty inside. Gathering strength, the slayer slammed her fist through the mirror and into the wall behind, fractures creeping through the glass, jagged edges slicing skin as she retracted her hand. Blood ran its way down her forearm, white-hot pain flashing in her brain. She leaned in closer to the mirror, dazed by the sight of her fears sliding into reality. A black hole gaped where her face should have been reflected, framed by jagged golden locks.  
  
A voice pierced through the reverie. "What have you done?"  
  
Buffy looked up to see her sister, slack-jawed, standing in the doorway. Her eyes roamed from the shattered mirror to her bleeding hand, taking in the scene that she forced Dawn to see. The slayer slowly slid out of her chair and into a heap on the floor. "Oh God…" was the only phrase she could think to utter, the only words that could pass through her dry throat, the only sentence that wouldn't compound the expression of horror on her sister's face. She fingered the locks of hair spread around her, those little bits of light laying on the carpet. Brain churned frantically, rusty, trying to come up with an explanation. Anything. Vamp, demon, scissors poltergeist. But nothing would form. Instead her shoulders hunched and the guilt set in. *This is how I keep my promise?*  
  
Suddenly Dawn was on her knees, fingers shaky but gentle as she examined Buffy's injury. "There's still some glass, and…" the girl's eyes drifted upward, to what was left of her sister's tresses, "…your hair. But don't worry. I'll fix it. You'll be all right." She pulled the slayer into her arms, rocking and repeating the phrase like a mantra, "You'll be all right. You'll be all right."  
  
END 


End file.
